


In the Beginning...

by Little_Duckling1995



Series: The Solas Series [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Arlathan, Character Death, F/M, First Age, Love, Pre-Dragon Age: Inquisition, Revenge, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2019-01-27 04:37:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12573868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Duckling1995/pseuds/Little_Duckling1995
Summary: This is the world before we knew Thedas, the world of Arlathan that belonged to the elves.  What was the world like when it was still new and who was Solas well before the formation of the Inquisition? What events led him to be the broody, fatalistic elf we came to know and how did the love of a woman save him and shatter him into a circle of revenge?This is a three part story: the time of Arlathan, during the events of the Inquisition, and during the events of/post-Trespasser. The first and second part story will end in angst, I can promise you that.  BUT it will make the third part so much sweeter in the end.  There WILL be smut but I want this story to have a deeply rooted plot so when there is smut, it's much more meaningful.





	1. In the Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for giving this fic a try! I know you won't be disappointed. This first chapter is mainly history of what and how everything came to be, it is the foundation, the backbone, of our story but next chapter we will begin to see our vital organs of the story being built. Please enjoy and stay tuned for chapter 2!

On his knees, he held her cooling corpse flush against his warm body.  Fresh blood staining the floor boards and clothes.  A foul odor of iron and copper filled the air.  Powerful rushes of guilt, anger, and grief stung his eyes as he glared at the gaping hole of gore where her stomach and chest used to be; where their unborn child remained in a deadened state somewhere in the carnage.  Tears streamed down his face into the empty chest cavity that once held her beating, alive heart.  Why would the Evanuris do this?  Have they gone mad?  to kill two of the most innocent beings.  The man cradled his dead lovers head in one hand and gently placed the other on her pale cheek.  Throwing his head back in defeat, a roaring howl erupted deep within his throat.  His eyes glazed over her slightly parted lips, settling onto her lifeless eyes.  Those green eyes that used to carry so much weight in them.  The elf continued to caress her plump cheek, his thumb lightly brushing over her long eyelashes.  “I vow, my love, I will avenge you.  My heart, ma vhenan.”

 

Before the world took form, there was only darkness.  No light, no green grass, no love, no life to take any solid form, it just was.  Except for one almighty being in which, the universe gifted the immense power to create and to destroy.  It had not taken any form but this being _became_ the universe.  The beginning of all time who never had a start of life and never an end to one, though It could give both. 

For many a year, It sat in the vast emptiness and silence and began to fall into despair and loneliness.  When It’s emptiness became too much, It gave itself a body made of flesh and warm blood, into a true being.  But yet, It’s loneliness fiercely endured.  It was then that It created a new lifeform in likeness of itself.  It called the body _female_ for she was made for It as a companion, a helper for all of time.  It gave her voice compared to the softest of silks and sweetness of thickened, golden honey, gliding into the ears and settling soothing tones into It’s mind, filling It’s boundless space.  She had a title, It had none, and when she noticed this, she called It _male_ giving him a name of Maker for she was made from him and in turn he gifted her with the name Andraste for she was his ultimate victory and forever would be. 

They would whisper to each other and entertain the idea to create more life.  It would be vibrant and beautiful.  For much time, they would shapeshift birthing ideas for forms to give life to.  There was one moment of hesitation when they knew the endless possibilities of corruption, but only for a moment.  Maker favored the brass and strength of what he called _humans_ but Andraste favored the tenderness and intelligence of what she named the _elves_ and thus, the world was born and it was just as they imagined; pure and wonderful.  The world was gifted life, different colors and hues, wholeness.  The pair created more intelligent beings, becoming more creative than the last.  They made domesticated beasts for the favored creations and food to be grown in soil.   

Centuries later, when the world was still deemed new, Andraste took to walking amongst their creations.  She would spend much of her time guiding the people and living her life on the ground.  This ingnited a new and very foreign feeling of anger and jealousy deep within Maker for she was made for him.  He built a vast and dazzling city of gold for them to live and when he pleaded with her to return to him, never to set foot back on the world they created, she reluctantly agreed; for she owed him her life.  But before she left Andraste, unbeknownst to Maker, created nine perfect, immortal elves blessing them with the gift of magics and through them the entirety of the elvhen race would prosper and live as immortals as well.  Leaving two out of the nine of the perfect elves to head her greatest achievement, she named them the _Evanuris._ When Maker discovered this, his was riddled with anger and betrayal.  He cursed her favored nine elvhen creations and in turn made many in number of _The Forgotten Ones,_ composed entirely of humans.  They were made into solid beings of disease, terror, malice, spite, and pestilence.  They would forever pursue to destroy the Evanuris, Andraste’s beautiful creations.  Locked in grief, Andraste watched as her once pure creations became corrupt with power. 

Three millennia later, the first war of creation began.  _The Forgotten Ones_ and the elves spawned a sea mixed with elvhen and human blood and consequently, blood from all kinds of life.  The elvhen race began to outlive and outnumber the humans and soon overpowered their strength with their sheer numbers.  After endless slaughter, the elves claimed victory then proceeded to enslave the humans to serve them for the remainder of their short lived years and even so, their children’s children would always remain in chains.  They took over all lands and called them under one name: Arlathan.  Depleted, but unrecognized by the elves, the true priests of _The Forgotten Ones_ remained in hiding, biding their time to defeat all elves. 

As several millennia had passed with peace, the _Evanuris_ guided their people and all the while, accumulating a dark desire for more power.  Slavery was as common as the need to drink or eat.  All humans had forgotten the war and therefore, the history of how they came into their imprisonment but even more, in fact all intellectual beings, had completely forgotten who had created them.  It was the time of the elves.  They were immortal beings who controlled all of the world, who dominated and conquered all other foreign races.   But when all intelligent life is conquered and turned to submit, what is left but yourselves to turn to, to command and eventually, destroy?


	2. The Gift of Happiness

A breathy sigh sounded in the quiet, dim room and was echoed by a nervous grunt.  Five men who oozed an evil, malicious, power sat at a length wise, oak table mutely commanding the rest of the congregation who stood with arms tightly across their chest awaiting a long awaited decision.  Firelight flickered across the five faces awarding them with menacing, vengeful features.  The man in the middle with peppered colored hair, gently rested the pads of his fingers against each other, all extremities spaced out.  Raising his forefingers to meet his chin, he began to silently tap his two middle fingers together.  He paused and the congregation held their breath.  His voice boomed, shattering the silence into small chips of imaginary glass.  “We, a legion, has bided our time and it is well spent.  Our anger, our thirst for revenged has swelled tenfold and it is ready to be released, coating all who opposed us.”  He paused, his eyes scanning the crowd. Gracefully, he stood.  The sound of his wooden chair scraped against the floorboards as he rested his large palms flat against the oak table.  Taking a sounded deep breath, he continued, “We will not hide anymore!  We will eradicate those who sought to devour us several millennia ago!  We will make our predecessors proud!”  As he fisted his hand and pounded on the table, a threatening roar sounded in the room.  The other four smiled maliciously and nodded their heads in agreement.

“Go!  Prepare for war, for your quenching thirst for blooded revenge will come.”  The throng of men began to file out of the war room, small murmurs could be heard amongst them.  “Zephyr!”  A tall, well built man stopped, turned, and bowed his head in respect.  His head remained lowered until otherwise released.  “You are the only one I can entrust this task to.  Scope out the elves.  I want to know how far their corruption has plagued them to our advantage.”  Smiling, the man lifted his green colored eyes and nodded, “Your command will be followed through, Father.”

**Six Years Later**

A noble elf stood at a respectfully, vulnerable distance from the high elf.  In all truth, her immense power frightened him.  His request was odd and uncommon considering most of the Pantheon bred their slaves to perfection.  Gifting a slave to the any of the Pantheon was most rare unless the slave was prized and sought after by one of the Evanuris.  “And why should I relieve you of one of your slaves?”  Her angled chin rose along with one of her dark eyebrows, questioning the lesser elf.  “She is an illegitimate child.  With her mother finally dead, I do not know who her _human_ father was and cannot take her to him.  All-Mother, my Lady Mythal, I believe she could be of great service to you.”  The man bowed respectfully.

Mythal’s eyes locked onto the child.  Her hair was made of brown, flowing waves, perfectly framing her small face.  The goddess’s face softened, “What is your name, illegitimate child?”  The young girl stiffened, but otherwise, without fear, stood tall squaring her shoulders.  Mythal held back a laugh, letting a smirk slip, the child was indeed bold.  She leaned deeper into her marble embellished throne, crossing her long, milky legs, waiting for the child to speak.  “Eldra, my lady.”  Mythal nodded, giving her ultimate respect to the girl. 

Her name fit perfectly with who she was, and who she was to become.  Indeed, Mythal gazed into her eyes and found an abyssal of emerald green seated there.  The words _lover_ and _mate_ floated across her mind.  Oh yes, this child was born into greatness and would grow into a boundless beauty.  Mythal swallowed down a dry lump in her throat, her lips in a tight line, when she saw another version of what the child could mature into.  It was then that Mythal decided that this child was safest where she was now, in this present moment.   “Leave the child here.  Never request to take her back with you.”  With a wave of her hand, the male elf was dismissed.

Mythal stood, her bare feet warming the cool stone of her temple.  Warm air filled her lungs, making her chest swell.  Locking her long fingers behind her tall, slender body, she took a step towards the child.  Her strides were long, graceful, and silent as a predator stalks their prey.  She circled the girl twice, each time looking at different aspects of the girl.  At the end of her second assessment of the child, Mythal kneeled in front of her.  Even at the ripening age of 5, the young girl knew this was an honor to behold.  Eldra lowered her eyes.  “Girl, raise your gaze.”  She twisted her fingers together, becoming fascinated with her feet.  Mythal’s voice softened, “Eldra, please do as you’re told.”  Without a slight hesitation, Eldra connected her eyes with Mythal’s. 

Eldra seeped in the vastness of Mythal’s beauty.  She wore a circlet of gold upon her thick ringlets of silken, black hair.  She looked young, untainted but Eldra knew this female elf was aged well beyond herself.  Her white gown was decorated in golden undertones and clung to her like water to rocks tumbling over a waterfall.  “I know what you are child, who you are.”  Mythal’s gentle voice called to Eldra.  “My Master say’s I am an abomination.”  Mythal eyes smoothly sealed shut, shaking her head.  “No child, you are not.” 

In innocent awe and wonder, Eldra was taken aback by the comment and considered it a small gift from her new master, locking it tightly within her young heart.  Eldra reached her small hands to Mythal’s ears and caressed the gentle points, feeling the smooth skin there.  Realizing what she had done, Eldra quickly withdrew her hand and lowered her head in a silent apology.  “I am different.”  The child whispered.  “Yes, you are.” Mythal whispered back.  “I am unnatural, tainted, unloved.” Eldra’s child-like voice cracked.  “No, Eldra.  You are worth fighting a war for.”

Thirty-one years had passed since the day she was gifted to Mythal.  To any prying eyes, Eldra was simply a prized slave, but to Mythal, Eldra was so much more.  Since the early days of acquiring Eldra, Mythal watched the child grow into a lovely, tender woman and silently claimed the child as her own. 

One early spring morning, Mythal sat peacefully in her personal rotunda, surrounded by all kinds of exotic plant life.  Her fingers idly caressed the velvety pedals of a pink rose as sadness slowly entwined with her regal facial features.  “Taila.”  An elf maiden rushed to Mythal’s beckon and took a knee, bowing her head.  “Yes, my lady?”  Mythal felt the smooth cotton of the servant’s dress kiss her toes.  “Bring Eldra to me.”  The servant stood and padded out of the room. 

After a few short moments of reticent meditation, Eldra sauntered into the rotunda and mimicked the respectful actions of the previous servant.  “You called for me, my lady?”  Shaking her head, Mythal placed a delicate hand under the woman’s chin and lightly raised her head.  “Eldra, you know how I prefer to be addressed when it is simply you and I.”  Nodding, Eldra stood.  “I am sorry, Mythal.”  Taking a deep breath, Mythal’s feet met the cold stone, shocking the soles delicate soles of her feet. Her gaze was scarcely able to meet Eldra’s.  To distract herself, the goddess turned her body and walked amongst her sweet smelling plants infusing the spring air with new life.  Pausing only to bring her straight nose down to enjoy the pleasure of smelling them.  With no other way to kindly speak her words, Mythal decided to break an old bone to reset it properly.

“I am gifting you to a friend.”  Mythal was met with surprised silence.  She could almost see the tumbles working in Eldra’s head and feel her sense of unease.  Eldra turn her face down and just above a whisper responded, “My lady, what action have I done to lose favor in your eyes?”  Mythal laughed and waltzed back to the woman.  “Oh, my dear, you haven’t done a thing.  I am gifting you a future of happiness.”  Eldra’s brows furrowed farther into confusion.  “I don’t understand.  I am sorry, I suppose I don’t need to.”  Mythal stood taller, squaring her shoulders.  “Eldra, if you must understand anything, it is this: you have brought me great and unknown joy into my home, but I must no longer be selfish.  It is now time you gave that gift to another.”

Eldra’s heart settled as she nodded her understanding.  Mythal placed her hands over Eldra’s shoulders and for the first time, brought her into a strong, intimate hug.  “Now, you must prepare.  You will leave at first light tomorrow.”  Gently prying herself away from the warmth of the goddess she knew as a pseudo mother, Eldra bowed and took her leave. 

As Mythal watched Eldra take each step away, her heart clenched and a foreign wetness coated her cheek.  Upon discovering that she could cry, Mythal realized that she would forever love the girl who padded into her temple thirty-one years ago and the woman she would come to be to save a broken man.


	3. A Startling Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hello! Sorry it has been awhile. I just finished bartending school and have been busy. But I am excited to tell you that here is chapter 3 of my Solas story! Just a heads up, Frontier season 2 comes on Netflix November 24th and I may or may not be working on my Season 2 fic on Declan Harp. If you haven't seen the show, go watch it, then read my fic. With Justice League just coming out, I'm sure there are all these women swooning over Jason Momoa.

A proud demeanor played upon his body as his bare feet glided across the smooth stone and his hands gently clasped behind his back.  Small, strategically placed braids adorned his loose, dark brown hair that swept delicately down the plains of his armored back.  A wolf’s pelt was drawn over his shoulder, around the expanse of his body, and cinched tightly around the front of his abdomen.  The elf’s legs and stomach were pleated in intricate, golden armor, shielding his body from the outside world as he approached the woman on the marble throne.  Crossing his left arm over his chest, he bowed deeply, after all, this was her place of worship. 

His eyes were the first to rise as he shared with her a twinkling, sly smile.  “My friend.”  Mythal stood tall, her bare feet moved to meet the elf, matching his smile.  “Fen’Harel.”  Mythal placed her hands on each side of his head, feeling the abrasive stubble that lined the sides of the shaved hair.  She stood on her toes and kissed the smooth skin of his forehead.  Pulling away, she threaded her fingers together in front of her body.  Mythal walked towards a stained, glass window and stopped in thought.  “You summoned me, Mythal?”  The gods tone became serious as he stood straighter.  “Hmm?”  Mythal turned from the window, her hand resting below her chin.  “Oh yes.”  She turned to the male, “I have a gift for you, my friend.”

Fen’Harel’s brow piqued in curiosity.  “A gift?”  Mythal solemnly nodded.  “A gift I deeply cherish above all else.”  Fen’Harel stood moved across the white sea of stone to stand next to Mythal.  This time, he stared in thoughtless wonder out the window.  “Mythal, it is not necessary-…” 

“It is.”  The goddess quickly interrupted.  “I only have one request.”  The male elf turned only his head and nodded once.  Mythal squared her shoulders and faced the towering elf.  “I give you that I love above all else.  All I ask is that you learn to love her all the same and protect her as fervently as I would.  Let no harm befall her and give her all the happiness she has bestowed upon me.”  Fen’Harel confusedly turned to Mythal.  “I am most uncertain about this.  Who are you giving me?  Your prized slave?”  She shook her head.  “No.  I am giving you the one I treasure more passionately above all others.  She has not been my slave since her emerald eyes met my crystal blue ones.  That was when she stole my heart.”  Mythal’s eyes glanced down in an empty gaze upon their naked feet.  “And in so doing, I’m saving both of you.” 

Before Fen’Harel could protest, she called for Taila.  “Yes, my Lady?”  A quiet echo of a female’s voice sounded in the room.  Mythal straightened her neck and in an instant, she looked stunningly regal.  “Please bring Eldra to me.”  With a nod, Talia took off.  Fen’Harel shook his head in detest.  “I do not need your slave, Mythal.”  The goddess turned her piercing eyes to him and placed a cold hand against his cheek, her fingertips more pressed than the rest of her hand.  “Oh, but my Friend, you do.”

Fen’Harel furrowed his brows and was caught off guard by a white figure floating into the space.  Her dress hung from her like silken sheets toppling over the side of an unmade bed.  Her hair flowed in long chocolate brown waves past her chest and as she came increasingly closer, he saw her dark eyelashes that in one blink could create a catastrophic windstorm.  But what enraptured him the most was her sparkling, emerald eyes.  The most beautiful he had ever had the pleasure of seeing.  One look, and this woman almost had him on his knees, begging for forgiveness.  Forgiveness from what, he could not be sure.  She had a god melting in her presence and suddenly his pride rushed to the forefront of his mind.

He squared his shoulders, tightened his jaw, and looked down on her from his invisible pedestal.  A silent mantra played in his head.  He is a god amongst her, he will not submit.  When she finally stood next to him, he noticed her ripe essence of sweet smelling flowers and ginger.  She unknowingly almost had him on his knees again.  He found his legs buckling and was saved by the sound of Mythal’s voice.  “Eldra, this is my most dearest friend, Fen’Harel.”  Mythal reached for the slave, gently taking her by the shoulder, facing her towards the elvhen god.  “Fen’Harel, this is Eldra.”  Mythal sadly smiled.  “My safeguard.”

 

Somewhere out in the Badlands of Arlathan, a massive population, and steadily rising, colony of humans lived underground, kept in secret from the diligent eyes of the everlasting elves.  For centuries, this colony thrived and kept to itself, but was as evil as they were created to be. 

Once part of a great paradise, the grievous war cursed the land into a permanent wasteland, forever showering the soiled dirt in ash.  Every so often, stains of the bloodshed would darken the soot.  The deadened trees were sparsely spaced and only a few living creatures dare neared the toxic waste.  No beautiful chirping of birds, no songs from the nocturnal creatures, no clouds to reshape and water the ground.

A man toiled in the murky dirt, barely able to make it to his hidden destination.  His feet ached from days of travel and his throat was bone dry from the ash soaking into the once pink tissues of the inside of his throat.  He stumbled forward, propelling himself into one tree, then another.  His labor worn hands felt hard for the secret entrance to the underground colony.  With each impact from the slivered trees, a dry, breathy gasp would try to creak from his cracking lips. 

When he finally found the magically concealed entry way, the dark circles rimming his eyes brightened only slightly.  Falling hard through the tree, the decaying man was intimidatingly greeted by the gate guards.  Sharpened weapons were pointed uncomfortably close to his vital organs.  Weakly, he eyed the guards.  “State your business.”  One spoke.  Like a possessed, dead man, his voice cracked and with airy words, the man began to respond, “Must… speak to…” he licked his parched lips with his shriveled tongue, “Lord Zephyr.”

The guard hastily marched to the Head of Council’s office, rapidly knocked, and upon approval to enter, he turned the knob and treaded in.  Bowing deep, his equally deep voice was the first to speak.  “My Lord, there is a man who came from the Badlands.  He says he must speak with you.”  The middle-aged human glanced up from his paperwork and piqued his eyebrow in curiosity.  “Badlands?  What does he want?”  The guard stood up in a uniform stance.  “Once he guzzled ten gallons of water down, he told us it was of utmost importance and only for your ears.”  The man at the desk crossed his arms and casually leaned back in his chair.  The flickering firelight made his eyes glow with an envious green as the rest of him looked much more menacing.  Raising his hand, he made a come hither motion with two of his fingers.  “Send him in.”

Two more guards ushered in the sluggish man.  When Zephyr’s eyes made contact with the intruder, his hands immediately pushed him up and off of his polished, wooden chair.  “Corosso!”  Dipping his head, the man meekly smirked, “My Lord.”  Quickly stepping from behind his desk, he waved the guards away, “Leave!”  As the guards disappeared, Zephyr hastened his pace and planted his rough hands on Corosso’s shoulders.  Squeezing tightly Zephyr smiled brightly, “For you old friend, it’s just Zephyr.”  Corosso nodded.  Keeping his left hand firmly on his friend’s shoulder, Zephyr held out his right to lead him to the chair across his desk.  “Come, sit!  You look as if you need a week’s rest.”  Once his backside hit the seat, Corosso slumped, “Closer to a month.  I must have depleted your water supply.”  Waving his hand, Zephyr dismissed the comment.  “Have some more if you like.  Tell me Coro, where in Maker’s name have you been?  I thought you dead.”

Corosso’s face hardened.  “Was made a slave to the elves when I was captured in our last run.”  Zephyr’s lips tightened and his teeth clenched.  “Tell me what happened.  I would like compensate you for the years-…”  It was Corosso’s turn to dismiss a comment.  “My brother, I need no compensation for what had happened.  I will tell you my long experience, but first, I would like to know how you are faring?”

Zephyr smiled again.  Interlacing his fingers and resting them on the top of his stomach, he cocked his head and began.  “Of course, it has been thirty-seven, thirty-eight years?  When my father died, he wished me to become Head of the Council.  There were no objections, so I stepped in when I turned thirty-six.  I have two sons and a daughter…”  Zephyr smiled proudly, “My wife is pregnant again.  I may be old, fifty-eight, but my wife is still young and she wants more children.”  A hardy laugh escaped deep in his belly. “My eldest, Oden, will take on this seat as I did.  He is-…”  Corosso interrupted with a clear of his throat.  Leaning forward, his face was dark and his eyes were dead set on the man in front of him.  “That is what I wished to relay to you.  It is a matter of great importance.”

Zephyr skeptically sighed, copying Corosso’s movements and leaned forward, placing his interlaced fingers on top of his neat desk.  “Well then, speak.”  Zephyr commanded.  Nodding, Corosso began, “When I was captured, I was sentenced to be a slave to the elf’s house we raided.  That was my eternal punishment.”  Corosso turned his head, gently tugging at his bearded chin.  “You remember that elf female that you bedded?”  Scoffing, Corosso shook his head, “and I pleaded with you to not be stupid.  Yet you denied my existence and proceeded with your asinine desire which led me to be captured in the first place?”  Zephyr stared off into space, a small smile crept up as he nodded slowly.  “I never knew elves could be so divine, so full of beauty.”  Corosso rolled his eyes, “Glazing over your comment, the she-elf you bedded, was a maid-servant to the elf I was sentenced to serve.”  Corosso demanded the attention of Zephyr, locking eyes.  Most men would have been caged on the ground for challenging one of the Five, making eye contact was an explicit death wish, but Corosso was a friend to Zephyr and he let it slide. 

The dim flicker of fire only enhanced Corosso’s serious facial features that Zephyr found himself leaning forward onto his elbows in anticipation.  Zephyr released a breath he didn’t realize he was holding when Corosso finally spoke, “She was with child.”  A sly smirk presented itself on Corosso, “With your child.” 

Zephyr inhaled a deeper breath than before and clenched his teeth.  Straightening his back, his gaze hardened.  “How do you know this to be true, Coro?  The she-elf could have been a common whore.”  This time, Corosso sounded a mighty laugh.  His head tilted back and his shoulders slightly bobbed up and down.  His voice was laced with pure entertainment.  “Because, old friend, she looked exactly like you… down to the greenest of emerald eyes.” 

Zephyr intensely bore his eyes into Corosso’s and found nothing but absolute truth in them.  He pushed his chair away with the back of his knees and stood, facing an oil painting of his late father while palming his chin in thought.  A smile played on his lips.  “This… surprise… is most thrilling and fascinating.”  His eyes turned to the painting of the current Five on the wall across from where he stood.  “A woman has not been on the Council for quite some time, let alone the Head of the Council.  This is most exciting.  I am very elated.”  He faced his friend.  “We have been struggling to unlock the secrets of the elves: how they extend their lifetimes and how they incorporate magic into their essence.”  Zephyr tapped his chin, “She may be the key.  Tell me, Coro, how likely is she to come willingly?”  Corosso shrugged, “I am sorry Zephyr but I am not sure.  She was sent away when she was almost six.  But when she was there, I did not see her display signs of magic.”  Zephyr leaned the back of his thighs on the part of the desk in front of Corosso, crossing his arms, “No matter.  Not all elves are capable of magic, but a great deal are.  It might be a recessive trait.  Who knows, maybe her children will be promising.  Why was she sent away?”

“Her mother passed and the elf master did not want her.  He was not sure of who her father was and didn’t want the trouble of keeping a human child.”

“Where?  Where did he send her, Coro?”  Zephyr began to push, needing to know what happened to his child.  “This is what poses a problem, Zeph.”  Corosso licked his lips.  “He gave her to Mythal, one of the elven gods of the Pantheon.“  Zephyr grunted frustratingly as Corosso continued.  “Rumors have spread that she has become a prized slave.  No one would question it openly, but always whisper about it in secret.  It is said that Mythal would fiercely protect her, your daughter.  Some even wonder if Mythal doesn’t see her as a daughter herself.”  Zephyr clenched and unclenched his jaw in contemplation.  “What’s her name?  My daughter.”

“Eldra.”  Zephyr inhaled a sturdy breath.  “Eldra.”  He rolled her name over his tongue, familiarizing himself with the sound.  After a few moments of quiet meditation, Zephyr finally spoke.  “It seems the destruction of the elvhen race may have just become much more tangible." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sincerely, thank you so much for reading!
> 
> Kudos, comment, subscribe!
> 
> Love Always, LittleDuckling


	4. Taming of the Beast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. So I haven't edited this chapter and if there are mistakes, I apologize. I just wanted to get it up as quickly as possible since I've spent 4 days on it. Tomorrow I will go through the edits. Until then... enjoy!

Fall turned to winter.  The melancholy winter song of snow buntings soothed the quiet expanse of Eldra’s room.  Wrapped in a velvety smooth, gray fur, Eldra sat rested on her window seal, inspecting the new life coming alive with the return of winter.  Untouched white coated the stretch of the elevated land.  The snow buried the hibernating rose and aster bushes, all deepest greens fading into a deep chestnut brown.  Only the beautyberries and cranberries thrived under the bitter climate, dotting the blank canvas with spots of purple and red.

A gleaming smile spread across Eldra’s lips as she happily watched two snowshoe hares play tag, leaving the canvas with blemishes, and gather berries.  The roaring fire kept the inside of her peaceful room comfortably warm in contrast to the frosty outdoors.  Lifting a finger from the confines of the furs, she drew abstract pictures in the condensation of the clear window.  The green in her eyes shined bright as she began to paint a story in the cold speckles of water. 

A light knock bellowed from the wooden door.  Breaking from her enchantment, sharply turned her head towards the distracting sound. “Yes?”  At the response of Eldra’s voice, Taila walked in.  “My lady, the master wishes to take you to the Lowlands.  He says it has been a few weeks and that you must be in need for new scenery.” Taking one last longing glance out of the fingerprinted window, Eldra nodded.  She inhaled a cool breath and stood, adjusting the furs on her shoulders. 

As Taila turned to leave, Eldra asked hurriedly, “Taila, why did Mythal send you to depart with me?  You owe me nothing, as I am a slave such as you.”  The elven woman stood straight and kept her demeanor inviting.  “My lady, the moment you fell into the goddess’s hands, you were no longer a slave.  I know she titled you as one to keep up appearances, but my lady, I am well aware how you mean to her.  She asked me to follow and protect you and I was only too proud to accept the task she asked of me.”  Eldra shrugged the furs off her shoulders and began to fold them neatly.  Taila saw this and rushed to help her.  “But why, Taila?”  Taking the fur blanket from Eldra, she spoke gladly.  “Lady Mythal sees something wonderful, beautiful, in you.  She did not divulge the details with me, but if she wishes to keep you safe, then so do I.”  Taila smiled sincerely and bowed her head. 

“Tell him I shall be out soon.”  Not wanting to keep the god waiting for long, Eldra began to search for her winter clothing as Taila left the room.

Eldra stood next to the god as she awed in the beauty of the Lowlands.  They were not as marvelous or spectacular as the Cities in the Clouds, but nonetheless, still beautiful.  Marveling at the wonders she heard the elf speak next to her.  “You look as though you’ve never been to the Lowlands.  I was told you were from here.”  Blushing, Eldra suddenly became embarrassed by her childlike wonder.  “I am sorry.  I was a child last time I was here and to be honest, I hardly remember it.” Fen’Harel nodded, walking deeper into the city. “Oh!”  The elf heard a gasp and turned to see Eldra eyeing a red rose, smiling from ear to ear.

Her green eyes sparkled brightly at the smell of nature’s beauty as her cocoa colored hair fell slightly into her face.  When she pushed the stray hairs behind her ear, he noticed her dark, enticing eyelashes brush against the very tops of her cheeks, highlighting the rosy pink atop the ivory skin.  The tips of her ears took on the same shade, reacting to the minor cold.  There it was again.  He was instantly enchanted, beguiled by this woman who unknowingly had the ability to bring him to his knees and keep him there. 

“I had not known roses other than winter roses could flourish in winter.”  Her honeyed voice snatched him from his reverie.  Shaking his head clear, he stood taller, as if he was a puppet, and crossed his arms, burying his hands in the furs.  Though his posture commanded is voice was gentle.  “Yes, they are specially bred roses.  To contrast against the snow.”  Nodding, Eldra stood, her delicate fingertips brushing over the tops of the petals.  “They are beautiful.”  “Yes, you are.”  The god thought to himself.  Maker what is he reducing himself too?”  She walked to him, eyes all agleam. 

For just under and hour, the duo, followed by two slaves, wandered around the community gardens.  The proud elf asked many questions about the wonder Eldra, trying to decipher why Mythal thought her so valuable.  At first glance, despite her very evident beauty, he found her very average, but deeper, she was anything but.  Her values and beliefs were uncommon, pure, fascinating and for a moment, the boastful elf let down his walls and found his inquisitiveness to understand her. 

Before heading into the city markets, Eldra spotted a group of marble statues standing proudly in the center of the gardens.  Followed closely by the elf, she padded to the stone.  Each figured was of an elvhen likeness: regal in posture and beautiful in features.  Before Eldra stood nine tall, stone, elves: four female and five male.  From right to left, Eldra read the pedestals intricate words.  “Andoral, Urthemiel, Razikale, Lusacan, Dumat.”  She paused, squinting her eyes into focus, shaking her head, she continued, “This one is illegible.”  She turned to the elvhen god.  Gesturing with her hand to the marble statues, she asked, “Who are these people?”  The elf smiled, “Keep reading.”  Parting her lips to argue, the god parried by giving her a playful look.  Sighing she turned back the solid figures.  “Uhm.  Okay, this one says… Zazikale and the last says Toth.”  Eldra turned back to him, shrugging her shoulders.

An irritated, deep sigh audibly passed his lips.  “Fenedhis.”  His cool palm met the soft skin of his forehead.  “You missed one.”  Again, her lips parted to protest, but quickly closed them before he could reprimand her.  With a slight attitude to her turn, she started to read back over the list from where she ended last.  Right into the third statue in, with obvious shock she read the name of none other but the elvhen god standing next to her.  She stood straight, her eyes locking with his, reeling in from her obvious surprise.  In a whisper like talk, she spoke to him.  “Fen’Harel.”  Licking her lips of the cold, her head switched back to the marble.  “They are the elvhen gods.”

“That is correct.”  Eldra sauntered over to the elf and right into his dangerously close space.  Fen’Harel nostril’s flared, inhaling a sharp cold air but he could not be sure if his brain almost froze solid because of the intake of air or Eldra’s close proximity.  “Why are your names different?  Why isn’t _your_ name different?  Why don’t they look like the elven gods?”  Fen’Harel concluded that he could not adequately answer her questions while her emerald eyes bore into the depths of his very being.  With only his hands, he firmly gripped her shoulders and pushed her a few steps from him while he shifted his feet to his own statue.  His fingers idly brushed over the lettering.  “They are our names the humans gave us, to humanize us, as for why I don’t have one, I refused to be made into a mortal being.”  He curled his fingers into his palm as if the cool stone burned him.  “Why they don’t look like us?”  He looked up to each of the stone faces.  “We have no need to come down to the Lowlands.  I am the only… _god_ … that comes down here.  It is rare for even an elf to know our faces.”

Wrapping her arms around herself, she shook her head.  “That is sad.”  He shrugged his shoulders.  “Maybe, but it’s been this way for many millennia.  We are eternal.  A mere blink and for humans, it is several generations later.”

“Must be lonely.”  It was Fen’Harel’s turn to be inquisitive.  “What?”  There it was again, those _eyes_ making his knees weak.  But this time, she seemed to pity him?  “You watch so many people come and go, but have no one who would stay.  I would rather die with them.”  Something in him pull hard on a tight string, resonating throughout his core.  He was at a loss on how to respond. 

Sensing his unease, Eldra switched topics while walking up next to him, feeling heat radiating off his person.  “Why does this one have a scratched out name?  What was it?”

“I’m not sure.  To be honest, I don’t remember who is supposed to be who.” 

“I think it’s admirable.”  This time, his eyes found hers.  “What do you mean?”

“You chose to stay how you are, even though it’s kind of silly, you chose to remain Fen’Harel.  I think that is admirable.”  Clearing his throat, he walked passed Eldra.  “Let’s head into the market.”

From that moment at the statues, Fen’Harel stood at least five paces in of Eldra, but always conscious about how far she strayed.  A few times they stopped for her to marvel at the newness of the environment and while he never minded it, he didn’t understand her curiosity sheer wonderment.  As she stopped for the umpteenth time at a vendor, he stood at a comfortable distance with an uninterested face, watching the different being walk to and from, bargaining and making transactions, not all profitable for both parties.  “Are you really not awed by this?”  Turning to the sound of Eldra’s voice he piqued the corner of his lip.  “It is all the same when I do decide to visit.”  Eldra sounded as if she was begging.  “It’s so lively, so bright, and different.  We, ah, _you_ live in regality and I am in constant reminder of your lavish lifestyles.  This…“ she gestured with her hand, “is what life is like for _us_ average beings.”

As Fen’Harel was about to throw a witty comment, their attention was torn from the conversation and drawn to an elvhen woman thrown into the street with an elvhen man hovered over her, anger radiating from his body.  “How dare you!  Clumsy scum.”  The towering elf spewed. Before the gathering crowed of bystanders, he raised the palm of his hand and slapped the female across her cheek, effectively knocking her to the snow covered dirt.  Eldra went to rush to the female’s aid, but was abruptly grabbed by her shoulder and yanked back.  With Eldra firmly pressed to the front of the elvhen god, like a magnet he held on to her.  “Do not interfere.”  Eldra relaxed a little and in turn, so did Fen’Harel’s grip, but her heart still thumped in her chest. 

Her eyes were glued to the abusive scene unfolding before her and as the male elf’s hand raised again to mar the female, Eldra tore herself from the god and rushed to defend the elf.  “No!  Don’t touch her!”  Eldra shielded the woman.  The man stopped short.  Vile rage permeated the air when the man spoke.  “How dare you!  Step aside, she is _my_ slave.”  Eldra didn’t even flinch.  “She is an intelligent being.  We are not to be owned.”  The elf’s chest puffed up.  “Lowly human, if you are so intent on defending this woman, then you shall take the blow for her.” 

Before the blow could be struck, a quiet wail sounded.  “No.  How dare you harm my property?”  Eldra looked to see her savior crushing the assailant’s wrist.  She watched as the two silently clashed.  The aggressive elf was the first to speak as a twisted smile aligned where his lips were supposed to be.  “You wish to challenge me?  For filth.”

“My slave is worth more than you in the entirety of your lifetime.”  The last comment set off the elf as he turned to reach for Fen’Harel but was averted with a snap of his wrist.  Sent back in pain, the man gripped his wrist with an ugly cringe to his face.  Cooly, Fen’Harel spoke, “You wish to _challenge_ me?  Your life would be forfeit.” 

“It is you who-…”  Before the words could leave his mouth, a snarl sounded from the god as his eyes turned red.  As if formed from the very air itself, a taunting, black wolf appeared at the powerful elf’s side, teeth barred.  A sudden fear forced itself into the shaking core of the lesser elf as realization clouded his brain.  Without a care to his recent injury, he fell to the ground, forehead meeting the snow.  Whimpers of forgiveness spilled from his mouth.  “My Lord, forgive me.  I-I had not known w-who you were.”  As if the man had not spoken, Fen’Harel ignored his pleas.  “That’s quite unfortunate.”  As a magically charged fist made its way onto the elf, he began to sob and beg for his life, offering his slave in payment for his act.  “I don’t need your petty slave.  I…”  And as the god was about to land the final blow, he was abruptly was interrupted.  “I will care for her, Master.”  Eldra finally found her voice which was stunned into silence upon seeing the devastating form the god could take.  Eldra knew that Mythal had told Fen’Harel that she was not to be a slave, but for her own protection, labeled as such.  Eldra still did not know what she was being protected from, but learned long ago not to question such kindness.  “She could be of much use.  Please do not kill him.”  What the others saw as learned respect, Eldra, for the first time, fell to her knees in pleading. 

Fen’Harel’s heart softened and his eyes returned to the steely gray-blue as he faced the assailant.  “My slave just saved your worthless life, I would thank her.”  As if it physically wounded him, the elf said his thanks and nothing more.  Fen’Harel turned to Eldra, shaking his head.  “We will speak upon return.”  Walking walked passed her, Eldra coaxed the newly acquired female elf to follow them into the clouds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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> LittleDuckling

**Author's Note:**

> Well, you made it. Please leave little comments, kudos, and subscribe so I know there are readers who want more. 
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